Gap
by IBrokeBad
Summary: Professor Snape should know by now that teaching is the least of his responsibilities when Dumbledore gives him the task of preparing four teenagers to defeat Voldemort. Harry carries too much, Hermione knows too much, Draco just doesn't know anything anymore, and Ron can't catch a break. Meanwhile what it means to love plagues them as they decide what they're willing to do for it.
1. Chapter 1: Wake Up

**Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter. Rated T, but there will be some occasional not-so-tasteful language.**

* * *

><p>How hard is it to kill someone?<p>

To suffocate their fire until it goes out? It's as simple as that. Blowing out a candle.

Severus Snape expects it won't be hard. It shouldn't be. It can't be. He knows what he needs to do in the end.

He doesn't look at The Man as his booming voice echoes through the Great Hall. The Headmaster and his black hand. Held carefully. Snape hears the students murmur, like they had when he'd brought Potter in with a bloody nose just a few minutes prior. Severus decides he'll have to speak to Draco about that later. Like Potter needs more attention.

The Chosen One. How laughable. Snape knows that he isn't the chosen one. Not really. There's much more to it than that.

* * *

><p>"Nonverbally, Weasley. Do I need to conjure up a dictionary for you, or do you simply choose to disregard instructions?"<p>

The red haired boy winces. His face turns crimson as he struggles to keep his mouth shut. Within minutes, every one of the four houses had lost an alarming amount of points in the sixth years' first official attempts at nonverbal defense. The students had been placed in pairs and set to disarm their opponent.

Severus had accepted the Dark Arts post strangely conflicted. Though eager to divulge in the fascinating subject that had been his first love, he still feels a deep loyalty to the complex and beautiful art of potionmaking. It had kept him whole during dark times.

But now nothing feels the same. The students are as pigheaded as always, but there is something in the air, floating round them, making everyone barking mad. Twice Snape had spotted the Brown girl with her glassy eyes planted on Weasley like a pair of malnourished leeches. Miss Parkinson seems unable to leave Draco be, despite his absent disposition, and every now and then he'd see several girls whispering and pointing suggestively at an utterly oblivious Potter. Fucking teenagers. Fucking hormones. And no one seems to understand what nonverbal means.

Except for Granger. She is the first to get it right and well executed. Then Potter, then Draco. This is no surprise.

"Ten points to Slytherin." Severus says after the blonde's initial success. Draco smirks slightly.

"What about Hermione?" He hears Potter ask.

"What was that?" Severus turns to see the bespeckled boy looking up at him. The distance is not quite as far as it was just a few years previous, he notices. His glasses are crooked and his green eyes flash behind them.

"Hermione was the first to get it, why doesn't she get points?" Potter says indignantly.

His bushy haired friend frowns deeply. "Harry, don't-"

"I award points to those who deserve them, Mr. Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn." Severus replies icily.

Potter's black eyebrows lower as Granger elbows him in the ribs. He ignores her and continues glaring at his Professor.

With those damned eyes.

Then Granger stompts rather unsubtley onto Potter's toes, causing him to swivel his stare to her accusingly.

Weasley seizes this opportunity to nonverbally attack Potter's still drawn wand. The wood shifts only minutely.

Harry frowns. "Hermione, I was only-"

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Severus snaps.

Potter grumbles to himself but thankfully doesn't challenge Snape further.

Severus watches silently as each pairing then resumes their assignment. Potter is now waiting with almost admirable patience as Weasley makes his tenth feeble attempt at disarming him. Draco and Granger, partners, both have long since succeeded, and were looking everywhere in the classroom except for each other.

It is a shame, Severus thinks. All four of them, all so young and unaware of what is ahead. Draco already shows signs of losing the comfort that ignorance had provided him as a child. He'd once looked up to his father. But now Lucius is in Azkaban and the boy is nearly crushed under the tremendous responsibility that the elder Malfoy has left behind. Snape is beginning to think that Draco is already lost.

He shows it in the way that his grey eyes resemble a storm cloud, awaiting its chance to strike lightning, and in the way his left arm twitches every so often, at the exact same time that Severus feels the sharp sting in his corresponding limb. He'd taken to staring off into the distance, much like he is at this very moment, when he thinks deeply about something.

Next to the distracted boy, Severus sees Granger softly muttering into Neville Longbottom's ear.

"Miss Granger!" Snape says so abruptly in the quiet room, causing her and many other students to jump. "Explain to me why you are talking."

"I-I was just answering a question-"

"Answering a question? Did Mr. Longbottom indeed ask one, or could you simply not resist forcing your knowledge upon him?"

Longbottom looks shameful as Granger tries to save herself.

"Sir, I-"

"Did you hear what I said in the beginning of class, Miss Granger?" He asks. She nods.

"You said no talking whatsoever, unless spoken to, because you will not tolerate cheating in your classroom. If a student speaks, it will result in the immediate deduction of ten house points, regardless of the reason." She recites rather accurately. Next to her, Draco rolls his eyes.

Severus, not necessarily surprised at this point at her ability to recall anything she'd read or heard, simply glares at her in exasperation.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor." He says. The girl nods and hangs her head. Severus hears Draco snickering with his friends. Potter shoots him a loathsome look while still maintaining a firm hold on his wand, much to Weasley's profound disappointment.

Snape sighs quietly. He just hopes that these kids will remember what he teaches them. And that they'll grow up. Fast. God knows they'll need to.

* * *

><p>"They are far too immature, Albus!" Severus says vehemently. "How you see Potter accomplishing anything you ask is beyond comprehension. And the arrogance! He wouldn't be able to see past it for the life of him. And Draco-he's overwhelmed, you cannot expect him to-"<p>

"Relax, Severus. I've thought this through." Albus says, stretching his crippled hand laboriously.

The professor's black eyes strike Dumbledore in frustration, to which he simply raises his colorless eyebrows. Severus scowls. "Oh, you've thought it through? Then, what am I even worried about? I may as well go on a holiday."

Severus' bitter sarcasm does little to bother Dumbledore, who just smiles fondly at the man before him. Always dressed in black. Like a black hole sucking the light from everywhere he steps. What a brilliant illusion that is.

"You underestimate them," Albus says brightly. "Do you not recall how well they held up at the Ministry last year?"

"What I recall is Potter not thinking- yet again- and completely disregarding what the Granger girl, or I for that matter, advised him which was to guard his mind. He nearly got himself and all of his friends killed. Naturally, he succeeded in killing Black, the one person they were trying to keep alive, although I cannot complain-"

"But they held their own, despite the failure of the mission. I have seen it in the children's memories," Albus' eyes sparkle curiously. "You say that Miss Granger warned him against going to the Ministry?"

Severus sighs. "Yes, but she did very little to actually stop him. Albus, do you really wish to involve all four of them? None of them are near ready for whatever it is you want them to-"

"Then perhaps you should get them ready. Miss Granger is quite adept at learning what she needs to and more, is she not?" He adjusts his tiny pair of glasses.

"Maybe if you'd share what it is they need to be ready for-and why the sudden interest in Granger?" Severus says.

The Hogwarts headmaster looks thoughtful, eyes unfocused, "She will prove useful to our cause, Severus, trust me. Especially now. She is close friends with Harry and clearly intelligent-"

"Trust you?" The darkly clad man almost laughs, but since Severus Snape does not laugh, he sneers. "How, after all this time, could I not trust you? I have no choice."

"Harry will prove to ba an extraordinary man." Albus says, ignoring his quip. "You must give him a chance. I hear from Horace that he's doing remarkably in potions. Like it is a piece of cake, if I may utilize the muggle phrase. Or perhaps it was pie- anyway, that must mean he's listened to you. Something must've stuck-"

"I highly doubt that. It is far more likely that Granger is feeding him answers too quietly for Horace's senile, old ears to pick up." He says.

Albus smiles slightly. "All the same, I promise that all shall reveal itself in due course. Just please do what I ask of you. I know I've asked so much already, but the end is approaching. I've already set up the meetings with Harry. We can win, I can see it."

Severus can't help but be skeptical, but he glances at the old man's condemning hand and huffs. He's always hated Albus' persistent optimism. "Fine."

He watches Granger much more closely now, wondering what sort of brilliant, amazing potential Dumbledore sees in her. Severus sees nothing different. She is the same as she always is with that incessant hand flapping before him like an eager pigeon dancing before a piece of bread.

Granger, according to Albus, is the vital first phase. But the four kids together will defeat the Dark Lord. That statement makes Severus cringe. The fate of the Wizarding World in the hands of four adolescent children.

* * *

><p>Pale hands clutch a black case tightly. Grey eyes shift as Draco weaves his way into the Three Broomsticks. It's crowded and noisy, just as he had predicted. He doesn't bother glancing around at who is in the establishment as he swiftly walks into the bathroom.<p>

Breathing heavily, he places the small case onto the bathroom counter and moves to stand in the corner of the room. He waits for what feels like a lifetime before the door creaks open loudly.

Draco recognizes the girl as Katie Bell, a seventh year Gryffindor. She'll have to do. She comes into the bathroom in a rush, completely oblivious to the boy lurking in the shadow. When she spots the case, she picks it up curiously.

_Stupid girl_, Draco thinks, although he's glad she is or else his plan would be a failure.

Katie pops the container open and her eyes widen comically as she sees its beautiful content. It's a necklace lined with pale, pink diamonds.

"Imperio," Draco whispers. Immediately, Katie snaps the box closed and walks at a frighteningly fast pace out of the bathroom and out of the Three Broomsticks. Draco makes sure to wait several moments before he leaves, gaining as much distance as possible between himself and the package.

* * *

><p>Hermione knows.<p>

She knows who the Half-Blood Prince is.

It had been bothering her ever since Harry had told her about him and the book. He wasn't exercising even a hint of caution with it.

But now she knows.

She'd come across the article in her mad search for evidence against that damn book. Her mouth had popped open and she'd reread the words over several times. Eileen Prince. Mother of Severus Snape. Hastily, she stuffs the old copy of the Prophet in her bag and runs out of the library, much to Madam Pince's irritation.

Hermione is halfway up the moving staircase up to the common room when she pauses, deep in thought. Should she tell Harry? That should be her first instinct, right? She has the feeling Professor Snape wouldn't want anyone, particularly Harry, to know. Especially since it exposes a certain part of his past that Hermione imagines he wants kept locked away. And Harry _is_ busy right now stalking Draco Malfoy to an obsessive extent.

Then a sudden thought occurs to her. Spinner's End. That had been where Professor Snape had lived as a child according to the record of Eileen Prince's address. But why does it sound so familiar?

The staircase seems to have trouble deciding where to go, twitching back and forth at Hermione's indecisiveness, and several students behind her are shouting at her to get a move on. Blinking, she shakes herself out of her reverie and turns the other way, heading down to the Great Hall.

It's rather empty at this time of day, aside from several Slytherins and Gryffindors that have free period, so she's grateful for the solitude.

She sits down by herself at her usual spot and immediately immerses herself in the copy of the Prophet she'd _borrowed _ from the library.

"Spinner's End, Spinner's End . . ." she mutters, trying to jog her memory. It takes her a minute to rifle through her expansive memory. It had been something she'd read a while back in _The Rise and Fall of Voldemort_, a book clearly outdated, seeing as it should now be 'The Rise and Fall and Rise Again of Voldemort'- Spinner's End. . . It was something about- "Oh, shit."

"Watch your language, Mudblood." a voice says from immediately behind her.

She turns to find a smug looking Blaise Zabini, towering over her. Behind him are Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. A rather disagreeable bunch in Hermione's opinion.

"What a treat," she says dryly. The shock of her recent discovery just barely registers on her face as she looks around at the Slytherins. She waits briefly for one of them to voice their reason for standing in front of her. When they don't, she continues, "Do you four need anything, or do you just want to stand there and watch me read?"

"We just came by to see how you were doing, Granger. No harm done." Zabini says with a disgustingly sweet smile. "Seeing as you're sitting all by yourself." Behind him, Parkinson sniggers as of she knew something incredibly funny that Hermione did not.

"How considerate," is Hermione's second sarcastic comment of the day. She's never pleased when someone interrupts her on the verge of a breakthrough. "I suppose you'll be wanting some extra points for Slytherin, then, for acting like a human being?"

"Nevermind us, Granger." Zabini says nonchalantly. "We're just here to check on you." He gives her another sickening grin. "Bye, now."

Hermione watches them as they go, not realizing that their behavior was indeed not the typical taunts from a group of Slytherins. She doesn't realize that she should be worried.

* * *

><p>"Draco, did you hear what I said?"<p>

Draco glances upward to find the owner of the shrill voice looking supremely irritated. They are sitting in the Slytherin common room just after dinner. "Hmm?"

Pansy rolls her eyes, "I said, Blaise and I think we can do it tonight."

A sigh escapes Draco's lips. For weeks his friends had been going on about serving their own purpose in the war. There had been whisperings in the dungeons of Draco's essential part in The Dark Lord's plan and they wanted in on the glory.

But they didn't understand that there would never be any glory. The only one who wins in this is The Dark Lord. Draco had realized that the moment the man turned on his father. And now bloody Potter is pointing fingers at him for what happened to that Bell girl. It had been Draco's doing, but still, he'd thought he was quite discreet.

Now, Blaise and Pansy are planning on doing something incredibly stupid. Something that makes Draco's murder attempt look genius.

Draco leans forwards on the couch, "This isn't a good idea, Pansy. You shouldn't act of your own initiative, not when the Dark Lord is involved. If something goes bad it'll be the end for your family. Trust me, I-"

"When did you become such a drag, Draco?" Pansy whines, her lip curling in disgust. "I thought you'd support us!"

"Don't you understand why no one's ever just nabbed Potter during school? Because it's suicidal!"

"We're not worried about getting caught. And besides, we're not going for Potter, we're going for Granger."

"It's the same thing, Pansy." Draco huffs in exasperation. How could she be so reckless? "Think about it. What happens if you do something to the Mudblood?"

"Potter tries to rescue her, and it'll kill him. We'll make it look like an accident. It's perfect. She goes to the potions lab every night, so we'll just-"

"No. You're forgetting." Draco says, eyes hard and pleading. "Granger is a top student. Do you really think that people will buy her getting into a potions accident? And the Professors that'll-"

"Draco, those Gryffindors are known for their sneaking around and messing shit up, okay? Of course people will buy it." Pansy frowns. "You know, I'm starting to think that you just don't want to share the attention."

"Look, I'll tell you what's going to happen, since you and Zabini are both too blind to understand." Draco says slowly. "You'll walk into the potions lab expecting to do whatever it is that you plan to do to Granger. She either dies or gets stuck in the hospital wing. Either way, Potter will come into contact with her and the potion'll take effect. Then, Professor Snape will charge in and save the fucking day. Like he always does."

"What? No, he won't, he doesn't know anything about this-"

"He already does, Pansy," Draco says impatiently. "He watches us closely these days. He's smart, he knows how our brains work."

Pansy scoffs. "Well, then, I'll just have to catch her where Snape can't go."

"The Dark Lord wants Potter for himself. _Don't_ get in the way."

"We can end this whole thing, Draco!" Pansy hisses. "Once Potter's dead all this secrecy and hiding will finally be done!"

Draco shakes his head, "That's naïve and you know it, Pansy."

As much as Draco would like to believe it, the life of one boy won't end the war. It'll take away hope, sure. But end the entire war? No. It's much more complicated than that.

* * *

><p>He is walking silently down the hallway on a peaceful Tuesday night when he hears a shriek that makes him cringe. And Severus Snape isn't one to cringe regularly.<p>

He glances about the deserted corridor. The sobs are coming from the girls' lavatory.

A strange feeling of dread stills his heart as he walks inside, his black robes brushing the cold floor.

An inaudible gasp forms on his lips as his eyes find Hermione Granger writhing on the marble tile. He immediately rushes to her side, quickly evaluating her symptoms. He sees no physical sign of injury-

She suddenly seizes him and pulls him toward her shakily.

Her eyes expel tears and her arms quake, hands gripping the front of his robes. A savage noise is ripped from her throat and pushes through Severus Snape's ears, causing his heart to hammer at his ribcage. Let me out.

"Please, make it stop!" she cries. Her fingers tighten around the pitch black fabric, pulling him closer.

Severus struggles to loosen her hold on him. His voice is even as he says, "You're going to have to tell me what happened. I know it hurts, but I cannot help you if I don't know what-"

"They-" Hermione tries to ease her shallow breathing. "They caught me in the greenhouse and did something to the odaya leaves that I was harvesting. I'd just harvested them, and received a message by patronus. I thought it was from Ginny because it resembled a horse, but I should've known it was a fake because of how fuzzy the edges were-" she tenses again as another wave of pain overcomes her. "Anyway, it said to meet her in the girls bathroom on this floor." She wheezes slightly. "I walked in and the leaves in my pack started to burn. Then they-"

"Exploded," Snape says, raising an eyebrow. "Fifth year potions essay, Granger, on highly poisonous herbs once burned. I trust you recall the antidote?"

She blinks and clenches her teeth in pain. Snape can tell she is rather irritated at him for making her think under such duress, but she forces out, "Odaya leaves give off a poisonous smoke when burned that can be cured by a complex air exchange."

"That is correct. Now, if we were in the hospital wing-stay with me, Granger, keep your eyes focused, I know it hurts." he shakes her slightly to keep her from passing out. "If we were in the hospital wing, we could do this by wand. But that requires at least four people. The other option is much more primitive."

"Yes, I've heard of it," Granger says weakly. Tears slide from the corners of her eyes as she clenches her body from a pain that is everywhere.

"Right," Snape says hurriedly. "It's quite similar to what muggles refer to as cardiopulmonary resuscitation, but much more difficult. Are you aware of the process?"

"B-barely-"

"Just do exactly as I say," Snape says gravely. "Odaya smoke can only live in the human body. It won't leave yours unless there is another home for it, so we must distribute the poisonous smoke between us until it is at an amount that is less likely to result in your death. Then we get you to the hospital wing."

She nods.

"Now, breathe out," he says, leaning over her. She does. He breathes in. The air hits his mouth, the texture like needles scraping down his throat. His eyes water as his insides burn and implode. Once he feels the poison go down, he breathes out, his own healthy air being expelled as it is replaced. "Now, breathe in."

She inhales the fresh air. Slowly he sees her pain lessen.

"Breathe in. . ."

Her eyes close.

"Breathe out. . .

Breathe in. . .

Breathe out. . .

Breathe in. . .

Breathe out. . .

Breathe. . ."

* * *

><p>Harry's angry footsteps slap down the corridor as he runs to the hospital wing. He doesn't even know who he passes on the way there. His green eyes are set at the end of the hall.<p>

Bursting through the doors, the first person he sees is Ron, standing at the foot of Hermione's bed. His face is pale as he stares down at her. It takes him a moment to realize that she is awake.

"What happened?!" he nearly shouts. Her face is pale and her eyes are red and puffy. Nearby he hears Madame Pomfrey tsk and there is a rustle of a cloak as he sees Professor Snape out of the corner of his eye.

Hermione shifts slightly under the sheets. "I was making the-" she glances hesitantly at Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape. "-potion. . .and there was an incident."

"I thought you said you knew how to make it?" Harry says.

"I do!" she snaps defensively.

Harry turns to Professor Snape who looks only slightly better than Hermione. One of his hands clutches at a nearby bedpost for support.

"Well, then, what? What's happened to him?" Harry asks, gesturing to Snape, who waves off Pomfrey as she tries to get him to lie down.

"He saved her, Harry," Ron says quietly. "He's got some of the poison himself, now."

Harry stares at Hermione for a moment, thinking, "Did someone do this to you?"

"Ah. The chosen one finally arrives at the correct conclusion," Snape says dryly.

Harry scowls, but doesn't bite. His mind is doing backflips. He knows it's Draco. It has to be. Harry just can't contain it. He leans in closer so only Ron and Hermione can hear. "Hermione this is _just_ like what happened to Katie."

Hermione sighs. "Harry, that doesn't make sense-"

"Yes, it does, Hermione!" He whirls to face Ron. "Right, Ron?"

The red-head looks supremely uncomfortable as he looks back and forth between the two of them. Harry sees Professor Snape eyeing them suspiciously from across the room, his black cloak a stark contrast to the hospital white.

"I understand why you suspect Malfoy, Harry, but you need to focus on what it is we're doing," she whispers.

"Hermione-"

"Harry," she says sternly, her eyes boring into him. "Remember the plan. We can't afford to dwell on hunches."

Harry shakes his head and takes her hand, speaking slowly and softly, "Hermione, you could have died. This is the last straw and I'm not waiting for further proof." Across the room Snape's eyebrows lower, unable to hear them as Harry's tone turns dark, "We have to take care of Draco Malfoy."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Hey, this was just an idea I had a long time ago. Let me know if you guys like it at all and I might turn it into a full story:)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Start

**Yes, Draco and Hermione actually meet in this chapter. It's not entirely pleasant, but they meet nonetheless! Meanwhile she and Snape aren't having any easier a time but, what the hell, they have to start somewhere.**

* * *

><p>It's growing rather alarming how obsessed Harry is with Draco. Day and night he studies his map. During class, Hermione frequently catches him staring at the other boy with menace. It's a wonder Draco hadn't noticed by now that these looks are far worse than the usual glares two arch-enemies share. Hermione's concern skyrockets every time she sees them in the same vicinity, for fear that Harry will pounce right then and there.<p>

Ron's told her that Harry barely even sleeps anymore.

At the moment she and Harry are in the deserted Gryffindor common room instead of at lunch, where the rest of their friends are. Harry had decided to stay in the common room to observe Draco, and Hermione chose to accompany him for the sake of keeping him from doing something rash or impulsive.

Now she eyes her best friend warily as he stares at the Marauders' map. His emerald eyes dart left and right, searching for that name.

"Harry, please," Hermione tries, snapping the long silence in half and reaching a hand out to him.

He snatches up the map and steps away from her. His eyes jerk up to her, slightly crazed. "You don't get to say anything to me, Hermione. I already know what you're going to say."

"Well, you can't expect me to just sit idly by while you act like a complete-" Hermione pleads.

"I won't have this argument again," Harry says, shaking his head vigorously. "What kind of friend are you if you don't believe in me?"

Stung, Hermione bites back, "You know I believe in you, Harry. I have for years, but right now you have too much on your plate."

"On my plate?" Harry repeats incredulously. Hermione sees just a hint of insanity on his young face. It reminds her of Bellatrix Lestrange just for a moment. "You have no idea what's 'on my plate', as you so delicately put it. Try having the entire Wizarding World depending on you to save them. Now, I couldn't save Katie, and I couldn't save you, but I sure as hell won't let that bastard hurt someone again-"

"Harry, you're not alone. Remember that," Hermione says, feeling a sudden tug of remorse for starting this conversation in the first place. She knows how it'll end. She hesitates, "Th-this is about Sirius, isn't it?"

But she looks at Harry's helpless face and remembers exactly how he looked that day at the Ministry. Sirius had just passed through the veil and Harry's face was so broken. He'd felt helpless ever since.

"I won't let anyone die because of me again, Hermione. Never," Harry says determinedly.

Hermione wants to comfort him, or hug him-anything- but she no longer has his attention. His eyes are back on the piece of parchment, the light of the fire illuminating just half of his face.

With a sigh, she steps out of the common room, heart heavy in her chest.

* * *

><p>The library is closed, but that's never stopped her before.<p>

Hermione wonders why the library is even closed in the first place  
>as she silently makes her way through the entrance. There is no one in sight. Not even a wandering ghost.<p>

Feeling slightly mournful over her lost potion lab privileges, she decides to instead do further research on the potion she'd intended to make. Snape had disposed of her work immediately after he'd been dismissed from the hospital wing, a full day before her. This had been due largely to his insistence rather than to his improved health.

She doesn't blame him, but she wonders about the fate of her, Harry, and Ron's theory now. A potion that would, if successful, bring down Voldemort with relative ease. It had been a high level potion that was a derivative of the love potion, in fact. Snape might've been impressed if the potion had been mature enough for him to recognize it when he'd thrown it away.

Hermione is about to enter the section on potions when she nearly jumps out of her skin:

"Miss Granger," a deep, irritated voice says. "Are you incapable of recognizing when you are not welcome somewhere?"

There stands Professor Snape, tall and dark as he looks down at her. His black eyes bore into her face with a careful blankness. Evaluating, always evaluating.

"I'm-er- sorry, Professor Snape," she mutters, shuffling about.

"Are you?" he asks. "Because I'm sure you or your friends wouldn't hesitate to enter a restricted space again. Your track record would suggest otherwise."

"I was just l-looking for a book for an assignment," she says. Damnit, she thinks, why am I so bad at lying to him?

"A book," he repeats, placing a pale hand on a random book on a shelf. "Is this the one you are referring to?" She doesn't respond, so he runs his hand across the spines of several books and stops, "Or perhaps this one?"

Hermione frowns.

"Hmm, so it is this one," he says, pulling that book off of the shelf. "I would've guessed as much, you were using odaya leaves and passionfruit." He flips through the pages absently. "You are an atrocious liar by the way." There is an uncomfortable pause.

"Are you going to give me detention?" Hermione doesn't particularly care, but she asks to break the silence.

"For attempting to brew an illegal love potion? Yes, I probably should," Snape says, his black eyes watching her carefully. She sees a subtle, simmering anger growing behind them.

Confused, Hermione asks, "You're not?"

"No," he says, his words carrying that familiar quiet burn that she knows always ends in abused emotions. She braces herself. "I can hardly blame you for thinking it was your only option. A girl like you, so desperate for affection that you had to resort to one of the most dangerous potions ever attempted. And why not? If it failed, you would be blessed with death instead of rejection."

Hermione knows that she must look pretty foolish, brewing the world's most deadly love potion. But he's wrong about her. He doesn't know that she'd changed the potion just slightly, and that it wasn't even for her, but for Tom Riddle. But she can't share that with him. She'd just have to sacrifice her own humiliation for the sake of the mission.

Snape continues, the rage in his voice evident but it doesn't increase in volume, "Perhaps I should not have saved you. I should have let you slowly decay in agony just so you could understand how utterly idiotic your actions were!"

"Professor-"

"Both of us nearly died," he says. "I risked my life to help you, all because of a love potion. Tell me, who was it that you were so desperate to attract? Who was it, stupid girl, that was so worth nearly dying for?"

Hermione doesn't respond and presses her lips together. She hates more than anything to be called stupid, and she knows Snape knows that. She feels a blooming anger towards the man that she tries futilely to rein in. She fails.

"You have no right to judge me on my personal life, Professor," she says. "I appreciate you saving my life, but don't call me stupid."

"I will call you what I see fit," he snaps. "You are foolish, cowardly, and selfish for risking not only your life, but the fate of Potter's mental health. You of all people should know by now how fragile that _child_ is."

Hermione grits her teeth.

But he continues sharply, "Perhaps you did not fully comprehend the consequences, Miss Granger, but the Eros potion is illegal for good reason. It takes advantage of human weakness. It will eat away at you until you die."

"I know what it does!" Hermione says defensively.

"Obviously not," Snape barks. "You think you're so clever, but you're just like the rest of them, wishing so much just to be desired only to realize that no one will love you! No one can love a bookworm who knows all the answers, who is loyal no matter how indifferent his so called _friend_ is to his love-"

_His_? Hermione's fury subsides briefly to make room for confusion. She blinks up at him. "You just said 'his'."

"-_love_ is not worth death-what?" Snape stops.

"You just said 'no matter how indifferent his so called friend is to his love'," Hermione says, thinking about what she'd discovered that day in the library. The Half-Boood Prince. The boy from Spinners End. The man who has more to do with this war than anyone realizes. She looks up at him cautiously, thinking that she's definitely going to regret what she's about to say- if Snape doesn't kill her for saying it. "Were you talking about . . . you and Lily?"

"DON'T," Snape says immediately, stiffening. A new rage erupts behind his usually dead eyes. "You don't know what you are talking about." There is a fleeting look of shock that passes over his face, no doubt wondering how the hell she knew.

"I was just-"

"Do not presume to know me, Granger. What you _think _you know is so far out of your depth-"

Hermione, ready to just walk away from him, takes a deep breath. She knows why she can't leave him there. She cares too much. "You shouldn't be ashamed, you know."

He stops short, staring.

She bites her lip before saying, "You shouldn't be ashamed for loving someone."

There is a moment where he just breathes, then he says, "Get. Out." His eyes turn hard, "GET OUT!"

* * *

><p>To describe the next few potions classes as awkward would be like calling Ron's hair orange. It just doesn't quite capture its intensity.<p>

Hermione had stopped raising her hand in class. It's nearly killing her. Especially when it's so obvious and no one else seems to think so. Ugh. Meanwhile, Snape just ignores her with apparent ease. Fortunately for him, he has the rest of the class to snap at.

There are times when Hermione can't help but detest her own curiosity. It really is one of her greatest weaknesses. She can't leave something unknown, even if her life depends on it. Now she'd gone and alienated herself from both Harry and Snape, two people that she knows play enormous roles in this war. Snape doesn't even look at her anymore, not even with irritation. At least Harry has the decency to understand that she means well.

The tension between her and Snape had gotten so bad that even Harry strayed from his one-track-mindedness to question it.

"What's going on with you and Snape, Hermione?" he asks one day after a particularly brutal class. "He skipped over you when he was passing out exams." That's an understatement. He not only skipped over her, but failed to acknowledge her presence altogether, not responding when she spoke.

Hermione sighs, "He's being a child."

"Why?"

"It's nothing, Harry, don't worry about it."

Harry looks doubtful, but accepts her dismissal of the subject. Instead he takes on a much lighter tone, "So, you and Ron are going to Slughorn's party together? That's great."

Hermione laughs nervously, "I suppose."

"You suppose?" he asks.

"Where is Ronald anyway? He wasn't in class," Hermione says suddenly. They glance about for a red head of hair. . .

* * *

><p>"Are you sure about this, Luna?" Ron asks, squinting into the forest.<p>

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

Ron sighs. They'd been walking for a good half an hour already. But Luna had promised that she saw a clue as to who tried to kill Hermione out in the Forbidden Forrest, which, frankly, is not very Forbidden based on their six years at Hogwarts. She walks several paces ahead of Ron, silver hair flowing in the afternoon breeze, dancing even. Each step is more of a leap, or a frolic.

"Are we almost there?" Ron asks the back of her head.

"Yes."

"Yes?" Ron repeats impatiently.

"Yes."

Ron pouts as they keep walking. Then Luna halts so abruptly that Ron runs straight into her, getting a mouthful of wispy hair.

"This is it," Luna says, gesturing to a small shack that resides near the lake, its wood is covered in mold and rotting vegetation. Ron follows her inside. "Students usually come here to snog, but I overheard Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson scheming in here-"

"Scheming-?"

"-while I was hunting for Dandlebirds- you know, they're known for their ability to shoot bubbles out of their-"

"Luna!"

"Right, well, I heard them saying that they were going to sabotage her potion ingredients. And right after they left, I went in," Luna says. She stoops down to point out some sort of powder that Ron hadn't even realized was there. "This is dragon soot. It's extremely combustible. You might want to wash your shoes before you go."

"So they used this dragon soot to blow up her ingredients and poison her," Ron says with disgust. "They actually thought that up themselves?"

"Yes."

Ron looks at Luna with a newfound admiration. "We have them now, Luna! Thank Merlin for you." He swiftly takes her into a warm hug. "You're brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"

"Actually, it was just a matter of chance-" Luna says, hugging back nonetheless. _She smells nice_, Ron thinks absently. He doesn't even know what she smells like but it's nice.

Letting her go, Ron asks, "Who should we go to with this?"

"Dumbledore, of course."

"Alright," Ron says thoughtfully. Then a thought occurs to him, "Harry's going to hate that it isn't Malfoy."

* * *

><p>The door of the abandoned Hogwarts bathroom slams open. Draco nearly collapses onto the white sink and leans none too gently against it. Both of his long arms flex as he clenches his fingers around the smooth, ceramic edges. It creaks slightly under the pressure of his weight, but he's much too distressed to notice.<p>

His face feels too warm and his heartbeat is very telling of his current panicked state. Draco shakes his head and grits his teeth in frustration. He should have known that it would have been too messy getting other students involved. He tries to reassure himself of the fact that the necklace is not likely to be easily traced back to him and inhales slowly.

Just as he contemplates quite seriously about whether or not to smash his head open on the sink, he hears a clinking sound.

Whipping around, he says, "Who's there?"

"Damn," he hears a female voice mutter softly, followed by a rustling of robes. Draco glances about the tiled room warily. A bathroom stall clicks open and out walks Hermione Granger, one of the last people Draco expects to see next to the Dark Lord himself. Her face looks as if she's bracing herself for an enormous explosion.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here, Granger?" Draco says. He blinks rapidly, dissolving the moisture in his eyes.

"Me?" Hermione scoffs. "This is a girl's lavatory!"

"It's out of order," Draco says fiercely. "No one's allowed in here because of Myrtle."

"Well, Myrtle and I are old friends," Hermione says. It's only then that Draco notices that he isn't the only one on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Her brown eyes are shining and her nose is pink.

"Are you crying, Granger?" Draco says, an incredulous smile on his pale mouth. He can't help but feel enjoyment from the sight. These days he has to take it where he can get it.

Hermione's eyes narrow. "No, I was using the toilet! That's what bathrooms are for."

"You're telling me that you went out of your way to take a piss in a haunted bathroom?" Draco asks, eyeing her disbelievingly. "And tearing up while you're doing it no less."

"Well, I just-" Hermione says.

"Are you spying on me?" Draco says, his grey eyes threatening.

"What? No-"

"Has Potter sent you? I knew that tosser couldn't keep his damn nose out of my business for a second!" He says. He then takes a deep, shaky breath, similar to the one he took after he first entered the bathroom.

"Harry does not 'send' me anywhere," Hermione says matter-of-factly. "I have a mind of my own, thanks."

"Yes, you've made sure that we're all well aware of that." Draco grumbles.

Hermione frowns and says, "What is it that you're doing in here, Malfoy?" He doesn't answer. There is a long pause in which she hesitates. She looks reluctant before she says, "You know, if you need anything. . . or if there's something going on or you're in trouble, I can help you."

"I don't need help. Especially from you." He spits bitterly. Granger just frowns at him, unsurprised.

He makes his way to exit, and just before he leaves her he says, "I'll see you around, Mudblood."

* * *

><p>The days are passing faster as the holidays approach. Gold, red, and green decorate the corridors lavishly in the forms of beautiful streamers and flowers. Green mistletoe turn up at random corners of the castle, enchanting any two who pass under it with the obligation of one kiss. This successfully prevents students from travelling together from class to class and, in addition to that, increases their walking pace, for fear of being charmed to kiss someone highly unappealing.<p>

Draco finds himself artfully avoiding the corridors altogether. There is far too much chaos and distraction. On this particular occasion however, he is running late. So he quickly darts and squeezes past students as he tries to make his way to the sanctuary of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where it's relatively quiet.

"Oh, bloody hell!" He exclaims. A traffic jam is quickly forming just ahead of him due to an unknown blockage. Kids are yelling and threatening, and before long, the entire width of the wall is filled. Students stand shoulder to shoulder, back to chest, squirming in discomfort. There's barely any room to breathe.

Draco curses and starts to aggressively force his way through, causing a great uproar among the kids around him.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Malfoy!" A familiar voice huffs. "Just stay put while Snape sorts this out. See, look, here he comes."

The blonde boy turns sharply to the source of the voice, ready to give them an earful.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Draco says once he realizes that he is indeed pressed against Hermione Granger. He's also pressed against several other students, but he has the least amount of tolerance for this particular one. So, he wriggles much more forcefully, not hesitating to shove people and nearly smacking an unfortunate first year in the face.

"Charming," Hermione comments, rolling her eyes as she avoids the backswing of Draco's flailing arms and elbows.

Somehow, he successfully makes the situation worse. The angry victims of Draco's impatience push him back into Hermione so they end up crushed together with his face buried in the back of her head. He resists greatly for several seconds before simply collapsing against her with a mighty sigh.

"Feeling better?" Hermione asks. Draco can hear the smirk in her voice as he extracts his face from her wild mane.

"Brilliant." He mumbles sarcastically. He watches as Professor Snape mouths some incantations, his eyes directed to the floor.

"It looks like someone's cast a sticking jinx. The students up front are stuck to the floor." Hermione says before Draco could ask. "As well as a few people behind us by the looks of it." It's true. Students behind and in front of them struggle to move while those not stuck have no way to escape through the tightly packed hall.

"Well, Snape had better get a move on. I'm not in a pleasant mood." He says hotly, scowling to his heart's content.

She turns her head slightly towards him and asks, "What were you doing in the bathroom that day, Malfoy?"

"I say that I'm not in a pleasant mood and you decide it's a proper time to interrogate me?" Draco scoffs. He knows what she's doing. He has no way to run away from her this time. "And it's none of your business, Granger."

"I can't imagine that's ever stopped you before." She says, hair swacking him lightly as she turns her head further. "So why should it stop me?"

"Don't ever compare yourself to me, Granger." He says. "We are not the same."

Hermione sighs and wonders mockingly, "Why did I see that response coming?"

"Because it's true."

"Or maybe you're much too predictable."

That seems to jab a nerve for Draco, who flinches and says, "Predictable? You're one to talk, you fawn over Potter like he's a god. He gets a papercut and I'll bet ten galleons you'll be the one to mend it for him."

"At least I can make decisions for myself." She says.

"I make my own decisions," he argues, but doesn't continue further to prove his statement. He looks down frustratedly upon the top of her head before cursing softly and trying in vain to writhe away from her, only to find that he is now stuck to the ground along with several other students.

"Were you responsible for what happened to Katie?" Hermione ventures.

And just like that, the boy shuts down. It's as if a wall were now carefully placed behind his grey eyes, for they become dull. Hermione recognizes a moderately practiced Occlumens when she sees one. Last year, when Snape had briefly instructed Harry on the subject, Hermione had done a great deal of research.

She can see where Draco can be more successful than her best friend. Although Draco can at times be just as hot-tempered and volatile as Harry, he has a sharpness and focus that Harry does not. Hermione wonders if it's Draco's motivation that is what makes them differ; if there is a threat on his or his family's life.

Draco is still struggling to remove himself from her when she says, "You can trust me, Draco."

There is a silence as he stills and looks down at her in surprise, then wariness. "We won't ever trust each other, Granger. Not really." But he says it more gently than she expects, as if even he is sad that the smallest form of comfort between them is unacceptable.

"Miss Granger," Snape suddenly calls from front of the crowd of students. He looks immensely impatient and irritated. "Would you care to assist me in removing the children from the hall. I believe you are likely to be familiar with the proper spell."

"I think so, sir," She replies, but he has already resumed waving his wand and muttering incantations passively.

"You knew how to get us out this whole time?" Draco asks.

"I know the basic theory. I've never done it," Hermione says defensively.

"I can't imagine that's ever stopped you before," he says with an annoyed sigh.

She glares sideways at him before focusing her eyes onto the floor. Her whispered spells are unintelligible to Draco who just waits for the whole process to be over.

Within minutes, the students are free and cheering. Hermione is the only one left. Draco glances at her briefly before quickly leaving her and Snape crouched on the ground at her feet.

* * *

><p>"Stop fidgeting!" Snape orders, causing Hermione to cease immediately. She leans away from him, still slightly wary of him since their conversation the other night. "I was under the impression that you were intelligent, Miss Granger. But if that were the case you would not have adhered yourself to the floor."<p>

"I must've mistaken how to do the spell." She thinks aloud, completely taken aback by the slight compliment. She decides that reacting to it would only annoy him, so she feigns like she hadn't heard it. "In the process of taking care of everyone else I didn't realize I was moving all the residual glue to my feet. It must've accumulated and now I'm more stuck than everyone else."

"Indeed." Snape says, a light smirk pulling at one side of his mouth in amusement. She raises an eyebrow at him before returning her focus to her feet. And just like that, the heavy cloud of hostility hovering over hem dissolves.

"Professor, may I ask you a question?" Hermione asks. She feels the ice melting.

"You may, but I'll have no obligation to answer."

"I was wondering. . ." She begins hesitantly. She feels Professor Snape's wand prodding firmly at the side of her shoe. "Do you believe in immortality?"

He stops for a moment. "There are ways to imitate it, yes, but I do not believe one can acquire it truly without consequence." Hermione can feel his wand resume its poking.

"But even then, there must be some way to die, right?"

"There have been very few achievements in that field, Miss Granger, why the sudden interest?" He asks suspiciously.

She doesn't reply as one foot pops off of the ground.

"I-I'm writing a paper on theories of immortality for a Professor," she says.

Snape rolls his eyes, seeing right through her. "When will you ever learn to lie, Miss Granger, I am beginning to think that I ought to pity you for how pathetic you are at it."

Hermione breathes a shaky sigh. "I want to ask you. . . if you would teach me Occlumency."

Looking as if that were the last thing that he would expect her to say, he raises a black eyebrow. After a moment's pause, he says, "Alright."

"Alright?"

"You are friends with Potter, it seems like a reasonable request."

Since when is Snape so cooperative? Hermione is actually too surprised to respond as her other foot is removed from the floor and without a word, she watches Snape stand and go.

* * *

><p>"I agreed to have Occlumency lessons with the girl, is that sufficient?" Severus asks, slumping into the chair in Dumbledore's office. He wonders how many times he's done that.<p>

"It's a start."

"What exactly are these kids meant to be doing, Albus? Joining the Aurors?"

"No. What they're doing is far more dangerous," The headmaster says, picking a candy wrapper off of his toffee.

"They're just kids!"

Albus's blue eyes strike Severus gravely. "They are each nearly seventeen, Severus. The same age as you when you made decisions of such magnitude."

Severus scoffs, "And look where that got me." He looks at Albus, "Granger is too smart for her own good. She knows who I am, Albus. Where I'm from. She knows about the Vow, and she's already putting together the pieces regarding Draco-"

"That's good, it'll save us some time."

"Or it'll put me in danger with the Dark Lord. She knows too much."

"Forgive me, Severus, but it seems to me that you aren't terribly concerned about it," Dumbledore says, popping the toffee into his mouth.

Snape shakes his head. There is a long silence before he groans, "Merlin help me, but I think I trust her."

Dumbledore chuckles heartily at that, "Now _that_, my dear boy, is a start."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank's so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts or comments!<strong>


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